Candy Comfort
by gypsywriter135
Summary: It's his son's turn to leave the nest... And even though Jeff doesn't have a problem with it, his other sons seemed to have a history of making his life difficult. However, Alan has always had the ability to surprise him.


Told you all I'd be working on another story :)

(For all those waiting for my next update on "Shattered Ones," I'm working on it... But writer's block sucks, so while I wait for that to go away, I've turned my sights to other things.)

Anyways, you should all feel special. I wrote the majority of this today instead of studying and doing homework. Feel special.

Well, hope you enjoy it!

**Disclaimer: The Thunderbirds and Tracy's do not belong to me... If they did, I'd totally be making a sequel to the movie... A GOOD one...**

P.S. Takes place in the movie-verse.

* * *

Jeff Tracy rubbed his eyes wearily as he threw down the packet of papers he had been reading and leaned back in his chair. Running this company was no picnic, and after the recent fire in one of his staff offices from a cigarette, all this extra paperwork was killing him. Add in all the work from the Thunderbird's latest rescue, and the ex-astronaut was exhausted.

Which was why, at two thirty in the morning, he was finally calling it quits and heading to bed. He needed some sleep; tomorrow was a big day.

Yawning, Jeff stood and stretched, then flicked his desk lamp off. He flipped the switch for his office light by the door as he walked out, drenching the room in darkness, and headed down the hall towards his room.

As he reached the end of the hall, he noticed a blue glow coming from the living room. Curious, he headed towards it. It was probably Scott; the eldest of his sons was a known insomniac, especially in the few days following John's return to Thunderbird 5- the elder blonde had left that afternoon after a week's break down on Earth.

So he was mildly surprised when he poked his head around the doorway too see his youngest son sitting on the couch, comforter wrapped around his shoulders, and watching television.

"Alan?" Jeff called, coming to stand in the doorway.

The young blonde looked up, hand halfway to his mouth as he was about to eat something, and blinked at his father. He gave him a sheepish grin. "Hey, dad."

Jeff came to stand before Alan, looking down at him. "Son, what are you doing up? You should be in bed."

Alan shrugged. "Couldn't sleep." He popped something into his mouth.

Jeff raised an eyebrow. "So you thought a midnight snack and movie would be appropriate?"

Alan gave him another grin, moving his hands underneath his blanket to show his father what he was eating. A giant bag of Swedish Fish was brought forward. "Seemed like a good idea at the time. Plus, how many more times am I gonna be able to do this?"

Jeff refused to answer that; his son had a point. "Alan, you have a big day tomorrow. You and Scott are leaving at…" he checked the watch on his wrist, "A little over five hours. Don't you think you should at least _try_ to get _some_ sleep?"

Alan's face fell. "I know…" he said. "I just… I guess I'm too excited. I tried calling John, to talk to him about it, but he didn't pick up; I think he's sleeping. Anyways, I just…. I needed to _do_ something… I came in here, thinking a little TV would make me sleepy, but…"

Jeff's eyes softened. He sat down next to his son, who scooted over to make room. He sat back and sighed deeply, then turned his gaze to Alan. The blonde was looking at him curiously.

"Alan… This is completely normal. Everything you're experiencing, all of your brothers have before. Well, except for Gordon."

"That's 'cause Gordon's a freak."

Jeff grinned. "Yes, well, as true as that may be, it's true. I remember the night before John left. Your brother was so nervous, he tried to cut all the wires in the jets so that they couldn't take off the next day."

Alan's eyebrows rose, a perfect imitation to his father's. "Johnny did that?"

Jeff nodded, smiling. "Virgil locked himself in his room until Scott had to kick it down."

Alan grinned. "I think I remember that. Didn't Gordon have to help and Virgil punched him and gave him a black eye?"

Jeff nodded. "I was furious with Virgil. But he felt so bad afterwards, he just sort of let Scott take him."

"What about Scott?"

Jeff's face darkened.

"Dad?"

The Tracy patriarch looked over at his son and realized that Alan was watching him with a worried look on his face. Apparently, he had been glaring at the bag of candy for several minutes.

"Sorry…" Jeff murmured. He offered Alan a small smile. His son blinked at him in response. "When it was Scott's time, that kid nearly gave me a heart attack."

"I don't think I've ever heard you call Scotty a kid before," Alan replied, a small smirk on his face. "Actually, I think the only one I've ever heard you call 'kid' is me." Alan's grin widened. "Something you're trying to tell me, dad?"

Jeff smiled and chuckled at his son's expression. "Alan, no matter how old the five of you get, you will _always_ be 'kids' to me."

Alan rolled his eyes. "So what did Scott do that made you so mad at him?"

Jeff scowled and tried not glare at the television. "Scott disappeared a week before he was supposed to leave. Had me running around the island in a panic. I honestly thought that he had tried to swim off it and drowned, or gotten lost in the jungle and no one would find him. I can't tell you the relief I felt when you came running up to me saying you had found him hiding out in the old cellar where we used to keep all our spare rocket parts."

Alan blinked. "I remember that. I didn't know what was going on, but I remember everyone running around trying to find him. Of course, it was by total accident that I had found him. I was walking to find Gordon to ask him something…. And I saw Scott climbing out of the cellar. As soon as he saw me, he freaked out and tried to make me promise not to tell anyone. I was so confused, I ran back to tell you, and then everyone was running towards Scott."

Jeff nodded. "Yup. He was scheduled to leave the next day. He and I sat down and had a very long talk…."

Alan gave him a rueful smile. "Why didn't Scott want to go? I thought for sure that he, of all of us, would want to get away. I mean, looking after four brothers couldn't have been a walk in the park. I would have thought that he would have enjoyed having to only look after himself."

Jeff smiled. "Alan, there is so much about Scott that you don't know. For example, why do you think I appointed him field commander out on Thunderbird missions?"

"'Cause he's the oldest," Alan replied, shifting so that he was leaning against the back of the couch. "And 'cause he likes to boss us around. I really think he might have a god-complex, dad. Might wanna do something about that before he goes even more power hungry than he already is."

The elder Tracy shook his head. "It's because he wants to make sure that if anything goes wrong that he can't stop, then he wants to be there himself to make it right. You're eldest brother can't stand the thought of you, or Virgil, or Gordon, or John getting hurt. He wants to prevent any kind of harm from hurting you four. That's why he's the best field commander I've ever known."

Alan was watching his father with a confused look. "I guess I can understand that… Scott's always been protective. But that doesn't explain why he hid in the cellar for a week before he was supposed to leave…"

"He didn't want to leave because he didn't want to leave his brothers without him."

Alan sat there for a moment, looking between his father and the T.V. Finally, he sighed and bent his head back, closing his eyes. "Man," he groaned.

Jeff smiled a small smile and put his hand on Alan's shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. "Everything's going to be fine," he said. He made to get up, saying, "Just be sure to clean up when you're done," when Alan's hand grabbed his wrist. Jeff looked down at his son, who was holding out his bag of candy.

"You know, this movie just started…" he offered, looking hopefully at his father. "It's an oldie, and I know how much you like these black and white horror shows."

Jeff smiled, leaning back and putting his arm around his youngest son's shoulders. With his other hand, he grabbed a small handful from the bag of candy. "You know," he said, watching as Alan leaned into his embrace a little, "Swedish Fish are my favorite."

Alan turned his gaze to him, grinning. "I didn't know that… Scott and Gordon _hate_ them, and John and Virgil will only eat them if there's nothing else left."

Jeff popped one of the sticky fish in his mouth, savoring the flavor. "I know. Never could understand why. They're delicious."

Alan nodded, eyes on the screen as a giant monster burst from a lake in a shower of rain, grabbing one of the men on the pier and shoving him into its mouth. "I think one of the reasons why I like them so much is 'cause the guys hate them. It's probably one of the few things that they won't try to eat if they find it."

His father laughed, then ruffled Alan's hair fondly. "Or maybe it's because your old man finally did something right with this son and passed on his wonderful pallet."

Alan beamed. Jeff ruffled his hair again.

"Old man, huh?"

"Oh, for Pete's sake," Jeff groused, though he couldn't help the smile on his face. "I thought we were gonna watch the movie, not discuss my age."

"Well, I don't know. You might not be able to see the T.V. without your glasses-"

Jeff pulled the comforter over Alan's head. Alan laughed and poked his out. "Be nice, or I won't give you any more candy. You'll just have to eat gummy fish the rest of the night."

The elder Tracy blinked. "What are you talking about? There's enough Swedish Fish here to last the whole night…"

Alan smirked and untangled the blanket from around his crossed legs, revealing a pile of assorted candies in giant bags sitting in his lap. Jeff gaped.

"Alan, where did you get all this?" He asked, eyes roaming over his son's secret stash of treats.

Alan grinned. "Hey, I gotta have my own supply. After all, if I waited around to get something after you and the guys were done it, I'd never get candy."

His father blinked. "Okay. But where are you _keeping_ it? That's _a lot_ of candy, Alan."

Alan's smile widened. "So it is…"

Jeff stared at him for a moment, then grabbed a bag of M&M's from the pile on his son's lap and turned his gaze back to the movie. "I took your mother to see this in theater's, you know…."

00000000000000

Jeff waited besides his eldest son, watching as the others helped load the last of Alan's bags into the jet. He grinned as Gordon and Virgil tossed their brother's backpack around, keeping it out of his reach. Even though he was eighteen, Alan was still the shortest of his brothers, but Jeff had a feeling he wasn't done growing. It was only a matter of time before his youngest overtook both Gordon and Virgil. But John and Scott were tall, and there was no way he was going to catch up to their height.

"Nothing exciting with this one, huh?" Scott muttered, smiling at his brother's antics. "Thought for sure that he would at least top Virgil."

"I think going to boarding school for most of his life helped a lot with it," Jeff told Scott. "The only thing that's different this time is that he'll be alone; no Fermat there with him. He'll have to figure it all out on his own."

"He's a smart kid," Scott said. "He'll figure it out in no time."

"I agree with you on that one, Scotty."

"Hey!" Scott shouted, waving at his brothers. Gordon and Virgil turned to look at him, Alan taking the advantage of the distraction to grab his bag from Gordon's limp hold. "If you two are done tormenting him, I think Alan would like to get to orientation _before_ it's over!"

Alan ran towards his brother and father, Gordon and Virgil running after him, taunting. He quickly ducked behind Jeff, sticking his tongue out when they stopped a few feet away.

Jeff smirked. "That's enough. We don't want to make Alan late."

"I'll start the pre-flight checks," Scott said, ducking around to the other side of the jet and climbing into the cockpit.

"Guess this is goodbye, Sprout," Virgil announced, turning to look at the blonde.

"Guess so…" Alan echoed, looking up at him. His brother stepped forward and pulled him into a hug.

"Try not to cause _too_ much trouble," he said as they pulled away, ruffling Alan's hair.

Alan grinned.

"Aw, don't listen to him," Gordon interrupted, grabbing Alan and giving him a hug of his own. "The trick is just not getting caught. Remember what I taught you, young grasshopper."

Alan laughed and pulled away, right as Virgil grumbled, "Oh, yeah. 'Cause you're such a master at not getting caught."

"Hey! I'll have you know that there are plenty things I did in high school that I never got caught at!"

"Oh, yeah? Name one!"

"Well, there was the time-"

"Just try to concentrate on your studies," a voice next to his ear whispered.

Alan turned around and smiled at his father, who hugged him close. Alan hugged him back tightly, taking in his scent, his strong arms, everything about him.

"Aren't you done yet?" Scott called from the cockpit window. "We've got a schedule to keep!"

Alan pulled away reluctantly, rolling his eyes.

Jeff smiled down at him, clapped him on the shoulder, and walked him to the entrance to the cockpit. "See you at Thanksgiving," he said.

Alan nodded.

"Love you."

"Love you too, dad."

Jeff hugged his baby boy one last time before gently pushing him in the front of the plane. He closed the door behind his child and held Alan's gaze as he backed away to stand with his bickering sons. He watched as the plane turned and headed to the end of the runway, turned back, and began its ascent. When the plane had disappeared from view, Virgil came up to stand beside him, Gordon on his other side.

"Can't believe the squirt's a college boy, now…" Virgil murmured.

"Seems like just the other day he was stomping around, throwing a tantrum for some reason or other," Gordon agreed.

Jeff stood there a few moments longer before following his sons back to the house.

Meanwhile, Alan sank back into the seat of the jet, sighing as he turned his gaze forward.

"You okay, there, Sprout?" Scott asked, programming their course into the autopilot and leaning back, looking at the blonde.

Alan nodded and offered him a small smile.

"Nervous?"

"A little…"

"Well, I'm sure whatever dad slipped into your backpack will calm your nerves."

Alan blinked. "What?"

"He slipped something into your bag before you got on the plane."

Alan blinked once more, then made a mad grab for the bag at his feet, unzipping it hurriedly. He pulled out his books and several personal items, digging to the bottom. He laughed as he produced a bag of Swedish Fish.

Scott wrinkled his nose. "Then again, maybe not. Why'd he give a bag of those crappy candies?"

"They aren't crappy," Alan grinned, opening the bag and popping one in his mouth. He turned the bag to Scott. "Want one?"

Scott made a fake gagging sound. "Ulgh. No, thanks."

Alan smiled. "I didn't think so."

"Why'd he give you those? He gave me a John books, and Virgil a notebook full of blank sheet music. Candy has no significance."

"Actually," Alan said, smiling as he examined a small, gummy fish. "It's pretty important."

"Yeah… whatever, Sprout."

Alan grinned, and the butterflies in his stomach that had been fluttering for the past two days seemed to disappear; instead, they were replaced by the comforting feel of Swedish Fish.

* * *

I know it's not as good as my last one, but I really wanted to focus on Alan and Jeff's relationship. I'm not too comfortable with writing out arguments, and I'm always up for fluff, so this was born.

Please review! It helps struggling students concentrate.


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